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Friday, May 23, 2014

Oh, overalls. While I love them, I feel like they are the clothing equivalent of drugs. Both are very fun when used responsibly, in recreational amounts, and in the company of friends you trust. But lately people have taken overall use too far. So far, in fact, that now large companies are making them in terrible skinny jean versions in spandex blend fabrics with pristine fake denim washes. It saddens me. As someone who is from a part of the country where people still wear overalls for their utilitarian qualities, I feel like I owe it to the big bellied farmers of the Midwest to establish some sartorial boundaries for those of us who wear them simply for kicks. So, without further adieu, my personal rules for donning overalls...

1. Overalls should never be "skinny." You want to wear skinny jeans? Go ahead! But overalls are not the time and place for that. Not only does it fuck with your proportions, but you look like a city person who is too excited about seeing a cow for the first time. It's weird, and not cute.

2. Overalls should not be worn with heels (or done so very, very carefully). The last phrase you want to conjure in someone's mind is "farmer stripper."

3. That said, don't wear them with cowboy boots, either. One nod to the country is enough. Two means you're looking for a fight. Three means you're bat shit crazy and everyone will leave you alone. So do one or three.

4. Hats and overalls are like chocolate and everything. They go together. Personally, my giant butt looks even bigger in overalls, so I like the balance a wide brimmed hat provides and it's easier than getting a smaller butt.

5. Wear a shirt under your overalls. I don't know what it is about gas station attendants or girls at music festivals, but nipples and neon bra straps are two things no one wants to see outside their home.

Have a good Memorial Day weekend, folks! Remember to use your drugs and overalls responsibly.

Monday, May 12, 2014

As Stefon would say, this dress has everything. Candy colors. Stripes. Bell sleeves. An adjustable waist. A borderline-inappropriate hemline. An army of hobocops (homeless robo cops). I may never wear anything else ever again.

I'm going to keep this post short and sweet, as I've got a buttload of new beautiful summer dresses to photograph for the shop and I want to get to it while I'm still riding this sugar high (I had cake for breakfast).